


Like father, like son?

by thestressedsorceress



Category: Harry Potter-J.K Rowling
Genre: 'friends', First Day, Fluff, M/M, Potions, Sad, Slytherin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-09-15 01:47:55
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9213722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thestressedsorceress/pseuds/thestressedsorceress
Summary: In Albus and Scorpius's first potions lesson, Albus is struggling with the weight of his father's legacy and Scorpius tenderly comforts him.Hey guys! Just to be clear, the last post and this one probably won't have any more added chapters, they're just little shorts.I'm also excited to say me and my brilliant friend awaywiththeclouds will soon be starting a many-chapter fanfic! I'm not going to say much about it apart from it is a Scorbus story, and it's set at Hogwarts during their fifth year. So keep your eyes peeled for that!Xoxo





	

The Potions classroom was full of pungent fumes- they were choking Albus, clogging up the back of his throat, and he coughed, shaking his head to try and clear it. He was never going to make a good first impression with a head full of purple smoke.  
Mind you, he wasn't at all sure he was going to make a good first impression anyway.  
Sighing, he smoothed the pages of his textbook and leaned over it again, as though the instructions would make more sense if he got closer to them. This was their first Potions lesson, and Professor Slughorn had told them to brew up a simple sleeping draught. That was exactly what he had said- and Albus was sure he'd got the right page of the textbook- but this was in no way simple. It didn't help that he'd had to have James's old book, which was stained with murky liquids and crusty patches of God-knows-what so he couldn't read the thick black print which had been barely legible in the first place.  
Worse still, he couldn't even work with a friend- though he only really had one, and had no idea how good or otherwise he was at potion making- but anyone was better than Albus. Professor Slughorn had wanted them to work individually so he could get 'a fair idea of their independent skill.' Or, in Albus's case, lack of.  
He glanced up around the room past his mask of grime and splashes of ingredients. He could see- barely, through the smog- that his classmates were having various degrees of success. Some, like him, were staring desperately at their textbooks as they were engulfed in their own clouds of smoke. This gave Albus some satisfaction to see he wasn't the only one. Some others were stirring with looks of mild stress, but without scorched hair and desperate eyes- and some were polishing off their desks with an air of superiority, having already finished.  
How????  
Albus turned his attention back to his cauldron, picking up a bottle of something-or-other ; he really didn't think it made any difference at this point- and began to tilt it over his cauldron when pressing question hit him.  
How was Scorpius getting on?  
He looked up again, and looked around the room. It took him a few seconds to spot him, and was shocked when he did.  
Scorpius was stood behind his cauldron with his feet planted apart like he was about to facing the firing squad, maintaining a white- knuckled grip on his stirring stick with both hands. His blond hair was standing on end, and slightly matted by grime and grease. His grey eyes were round and anxious, and he appeared to have singed half an eyebrow off.  
Albus was honestly surprised. By the geeky chatter he had endured the night before, he had assumed Scorpius would be a golden boy, perfect at all his subjects, the teacher's pet, the one who had swallowed the textbook. He had, Albus was sure of that- but maybe it hadn't quite agreed with him.  
He knew he should get back to his potion- he could feel the bottle beginning to spill- but Al continued to watch- well, to stare, transfixed - as Scorpius reached for a bottle of a clear blue liquid, appearing to be concentrating hard as he uncorked it and poured some into his cauldron.  
Even with grime on his face and his floppy blond hair matted, even with the purple smoke marring him, Scorpius looked as he already did to Albus- like an angel, someone far too good for the world he had been born into.  
He then stood straight and wiped a hand across his brow, beginning to turn his head just as Albus had moments before, surveying the room- and time slowed down.  
The grey eyes met the green and for a moment, they were portals into the other's head- each seeing the other's frustration and loneliness. Seeing what they had in common.  
And suddenly time sped up again as the liquid finally escaped the bottle in Albus's hand and made contact with the frothing, angry surface of his potion.  
And exploded.

What followed could only be described as carnage. Girls screamed, boys snorted with laughter as the smoke from the wreckage of Albus's potion cleared to reveal him standing, utterly shell-shocked, his face scorched and eyes wide- and then the full realisation hit the rest of the Slytherins.  
"His hair's gone!"  
Shrieks and giggles filled the room, building to a climax as Albus felt his head in a panic.  
It was true.  
He was completely bald.  
Tears of embarrassment and shame started to his eyes and snorts of laughter came from the other students' mouths  
"He's crying!"  
"The lion's lost his mane!"  
"Look at the famous Albus Potter, blubbing like a baby!"  
"Maybe he's not so like his father after all."  
"SILENCE!!!"  
The room fell silent as Slughorn made his way to Al's cauldron. He bowed his head to hide his eyes as the teacher approached.  
Slughorn sniffed and winced at the sight of Albus's wrecked potion and cauldron.  
"Well, nothing doing with that, m'boy- best to stand outside- recover- yes- a shame... maybe you didn't get Harry's genes so much..."  
Albus didn't wait for him to finish. He shoved through the throng to the sound of gales of laughter as the tears started to roll down his face in earnest.  
Slamming the classroom door behind him, Albus slid down the wall until he was sat on the cold stone floor. He buried his head in his hands, trying to scrub those words from his mind.  
But it was true.  
He was nothing like his father, nothing at all. He wasn't talented, wasn't interesting, wasn't special.  
He was nothing.  
He shoved his head between his knees, shoulders shaking uncontrollably, and cried.

Albus didn't know how long he sat, the stone wall pressing his back, blind and numb to the world, feeling only his own loneliness and frustration and disappointment, before he heard soft footsteps on the floor.  
"Albus?"  
"Leave me alone."  
"Al-"  
"I said leave me alone!" Albus yelled, his voice muffled by his robes. He didn't know who the intruder was and he didn't care. Then he felt two hands gently take his. When he didn't resist, they pulled them gently away from his face. Albus looked up.  
Scorpius was crouched in front of him, his face solemn. He had washed the grime off his face, but for a thin line at his hairline which he has clearly missed due to his fringe. His mouth was wide, the corners turned down and the lips pressed together. His alabaster white skin was soft and sculpted to his high cheekbones and hard jawline. He stared at Albus with wide grey eyes harbouring nothing but genuine concern and care.  
Albus drank him in, unsure what he was looking at. He couldn't remember the last time someone but his mother had looked at him with such tenderness- and something else too. Something he barely recognised any more. Could it be?  
Love?  
He barely knew what the word meant any more- he was the family disappointment, the boy who belonged in neither Gryffindor nor Slytherin, but wherever he went people tried to turn him the other way.  
He was vaguely aware that he was still holding Scorpius's hands, but they felt too soft and smooth and warm to want to let go of. He just hoped Scorpius felt the same way- he felt so amazed and comforted having an actual friend to hold onto that it was unbearable to think the other boy might push him away.  
Scorpius leaned his head closer to Albus's and squeezed his hands. Sparks of fire and warmth fizzed through his whole body. He felt tingly and uncertain.  
"Albus- what's up?"  
Al took a deep, shuddering breath and Scorpius held on tighter, sensing his friend's need.  
" I j-j-just f-f-feel like n-nothing I ever do will be good enough- I-I-I'll never be good enough- because e-e-everything I do will always be compared to him!"  
Albus dissolved into tears again and Scorpius stood up, using their linked hands to pull him upright too.  
"Albus, look at me."  
Albus kept his head down, watching his tears drip to the ground. He couldn't believe he was letting Scorpius see him like this. He felt he was about to lose the one friend he had.  
But Scorpius was still holding on.  
"Albus, look at me."  
He put two fingers under Al's chin and tilted it up until the green eyes met the grey.  
"How can I compare to that, Scorpius? How do I even try?"  
Scorpius sighed heavily.  
"Listen to me, Albus."  
His tone was so serious that Al gulped in a lungful of air and pulled himself together, swallowing. He nodded.  
"Good. You are not your dad, and you never will be. You cannot save the wizarding world, because there is nothing to save it from. I have no doubt that one day there will be, but for now all you can do is work to keep dark forces at bay, protect your father's legacy, and remember that above all, it doesn't matter. You are your father's legacy and he will be proud of you no matter what. But you don't have to be your father, and nobody is asking you to be. Just know that somewhere, there is a small, blond boy who had put up with a lot in his life, and is fully prepared to use that experience to help you put up with everything in yours. And he will always- ALWAYS- be there for you. Ok?"  
Scorpius pulled Albus tightly to him, their clasped hands knotted between them. Neither boy could recall a time they had felt more safe or loved.  
Just then, the bell rang for the next lesson and they moved apart.  
Soon the corridors would be swarming with students on their way to their next lesson, and Albus didn't want them to see him like this.  
"Shall we head to the nearest toilet so you can - um- clean yourself up a bit?" Scorpius asked gently.  
Al sniffed. "Yeah, sure."  
"Then do you think you're up to transfiguration? Because if you really can't face it I do a pretty good Stinging Jinx- I think it would fool Madame Pomfrey-"  
"It's fine, Scorpius." Albus smiled softly.  
"And after that, we'll take you to the hospital wing and see if Madame Pomfrey can't do something about that hairstyle- pretty as it is, I'm not sure how much it suits you-" The boys turned in unison and headed down the corridor.  
"You know," Scorpius said, "we will laugh about this in years to come. When you've got your hair back." Albus grinned. They were halfway to the bathroom before they realised they were still holding hands.


End file.
